Chapter 2: The Altar of Hell

Natalia POV

“Natalia Brown, do you take Christian Blackthorne to be your lawful wedded husband, to love, honor, and obey, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

The priest’s voice rang out through the cathedral, echoing off the high stained-glass windows.

My eyes snapped open.

I wasn’t lying on the cold, blood-soaked floor of the Blackthorne mansion. My head didn’t ache from tumbling down thirty wooden steps, and I couldn’t smell the metallic scent of my own blood running down my thighs.

Instead, the thick scent of fresh white roses filled my nostrils, making me gag.

I looked down at my hands, trying to steady my breathing. They were trembling, wrapped in delicate white lace gloves. On my left ring finger sat a heavy, sparkling diamond ring.

No! This is not happening!

I looked up. Standing right in front of me was Christian.

He looked younger. His jaw was shaved clean, his dark hair was neatly slicked back, and he wore a black tuxedo.

Christian wasn’t looking at me with the bored, disgusted expression he had right before he let me bleed out on the floor. He was looking at me with calm impatience, his thick eyebrows pulling together at the sight of me.

Was this hell? Was I dead, trapped in some sick, twisted loop where I had to relive the worst day of my life forever?

“Natalia?” the priest whispered, leaning forward over his heavy leather book. “Do you take this man to be your husband?”

Christian exhaled sharply, a sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. He leaned down, his mouth right next to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“Say it real quick, Natalia,” Christian muttered, his voice cold enough to freeze water. “I have better things to do today than stand in a bloody cathedral wearing this hot suit. Don’t waste my fucking time.”

The arrogance. The cold, sickening tone.

Every single memory hit me like a physical punch to the ribs.

Three years of his continuous mockery, shoving cameras in my face while he walked away, his friends making fun of my barren womb, the night he drunkenly used my body like a rag doll, only to dump me the next morning.

And then… the blood.

The sight of my half-sister, Gemma, lying on his chest in our bed, whispering in my ear that her kidney disease was a fake. My babies dying inside me before they even had a chance to breathe.

My hands clenched so tightly inside the lace gloves that my fingernails dug straight into my palms.

“Natalia Brown?” the priest tried again, clearing his throat. “Do you—”

“NO!”

The word came before I could even stop it. It was low, raspy, and sharp. The priest froze. His lips stayed parted, but no sound came out.

“What?” Christian frowned, his eyes narrowing at me. “What did you just say?”

I took a quick step backward, pulling my hands completely out of his grip as if his touch had burned my skin.

“I said no,” I repeated, my voice clearer this time, ringing through the cathedral. “I do not take Christian Blackthorne to be my husband.”

Gasps exploded through the front rows.

My father stood up, his face red as a boiled lobster. Next to him, my stepmother looked as if she was about to jump out of her skin, while on the other side of the aisle, Arthur Blackthorne—Christian’s father—clenched his walking stick so hard his knuckles turned white.

“What is this nonsense?!” Arthur Blackthorne boomed, rising from his seat. “Richard! What has gotten into your daughter? This wedding is being broadcast live on national TV right now! This is a disgrace to the Blackthorne name!”

Christian stepped closer to me, his fingers wrapping around my forearm like an iron vice. He squeezed hard enough to bruise.

“Have you lost your mind, Natalia?” he hissed, a tight, unpleasant smile curling on his lips for the cameras. “You chased me like a desperate dog for a whole month to get this wedding. You begged your father to use his connection with mine just to put you in this dress. And now you’re pulling a stunt in front of the press?

I looked down at his hand on my arm, then looked up into his dark, arrogant eyes.

“It’s true,” I said quietly, my voice dangerously calm, though every nerve in my body was screaming. “I did chase you, Christian. But looking at you right now… it is the most disgusting, shameful mistake I have ever made in my entire life.”

Christian’s grip loosened for a split second in pure shock. His jaw dropped slightly.

The Natalia he knew was a meek little mouse who flinched whenever he raised his voice. She had spent three years apologizing for existing.

“You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as me,” I spat, tearing my arm out of his grasp. I turned toward the crowd, looking straight at the flashing camera lenses. “I don’t want this marriage or his money! I would rather rot in hell than let this priest pronounce us husband and wife!”

The board members of Blackthorne Industries behind me exchanged anxious looks and started whispering among themselves.

“Shut your mouth, Natalia!” my father, Richard Brown, shouted, stomping up the aisle as he glared furiously at me. “Stop this embarrassing tantrum right now! You are an adult! Your peers already have families, and you’re standing up here acting like a child! Christian is a good man, a billionaire! Why are you turning him down on your big day?!”

I looked at Richard Brown, the man who watched my stepmother beat me for years and never lifted a finger to stop her.

“Are you even going to ask me why, Father?” I whispered, a single tear rolling down my cheek. “Do you care about me at all? Is their filthy money more important to you than your daughter’s happiness?”

“The papers are already signed, Natalia,” Christian interrupted, stepping between my father and me. “Whether you say ‘I do’ or not doesn’t change a damn thing. My father already transferred fifty percent of the corporate shares to your family’s account ten minutes ago. You’re locked in.”

My father didn’t deny it. He just turned his eyes away, settling back into his pew.

They had sold me, just like in my first life. I was a transaction. A piece of meat passed around so two powerful men could sign a contract.

If I ran, I had nothing—no power, no money—and they would drag me back or ruin me before I could ever get my revenge.

If I have to enter this hell again… I won’t enter it as a lamb. I’ll enter it as the wolf that kills them all.

“Fine,” I murmured, clenching my teeth until my jaw ached. I looked the priest right in the eye. “I do.”

“Then… by the power vested in me,” the priest stammered, taking a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his sweaty brow, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

There was polite applause from the crowd as the board members of Blackthorne Industries cheered, happy that the merger wasn’t falling apart on live television.

Christian immediately wrapped his right hand tightly around my waist, pulling my body flush against his chest.

To the reporters and guests, Christian Blackthorne and Natalia Brown were a happy couple who had just gotten married in the most extravagant cathedral in the city.

He leaned down, bringing his lips right to mine.

“Don’t ever try a pathetic trick like that again,” Christian whispered, his breath hot against my mouth, his fingers digging into my hips. “You belong to Blackthorne now, Natalia. I will make your life a living hell for trying to humiliate me today.”

I met his gaze, staring right into his dark, calculating eyes. “Touch me with your disgusting lips, Christian, and I will cut your throat while you sleep tonight.”

Christian froze. His lips stopped just a millimeter from mine. His eyes widened slightly as he felt the utter, terrifying hatred radiating from me.

He pulled back, his face pale.

“Congratulations, my son!” Arthur Blackthorne called out, patting Christian’s shoulder as he walked up the aisle. He flashed a dazzling smile for the cameras.

“Within a month, I expect the press to swarm here again to congratulate you on the birth of an heir! Blackthorne Industries’ shares will skyrocket, so make sure you start your job properly tonight!”

A few men in the front row chuckled at his words.

Never, I swore silently. Christian Blackthorne, you will never touch me again. The babies you let die in my past life are the last things you will ever get from me.

I turned my head slightly, eyeing the double doors at the end of the cathedral. Gemma wasn’t there.

She was my maid of honor today because I had been stupid enough to think I had no other friends. But she was missing.

Well, she was probably hiding in some bathroom right now, crying her eyes out because she had to watch her dirty secret lover marry me in public.

Good, cry all you want, Gemma. I’m going to ruin you both.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors at the back of the cathedral slammed open with a deafening crash, causing everyone to gasp and turn to see who it was.

A man walked into the church.

He wore black leather boots, the sound of his footsteps clicking against the marble floor, and his dark coat flowed behind him like the night itself.

He had a sharp jawline, dark eyes that looked like they belonged to a demon, and a cruel, lazy smirk curving his lips.

Whispers broke out like wildfire through the pews.

“Is that… isn’t that the eldest son?”

“Lucien Blackthorne? What is he doing here?”

“I thought his father kicked him out years ago… people say he’s dangerous.”

Lucien walked down the center aisle without looking at the press or at his father. His eyes were locked entirely on the altar.

He stopped right in front of us. A slow, cruel smirk pulled at the corner of his lips as he looked at Christian, then slowly shifted his gaze to me.

The intensity in his dark eyes made a cold shiver run straight down my spine.

Lucien extended a long, gloved hand toward Christian.

“Congratulations on your wedding… little brother,” Lucien said, his voice deep. “A bit rude of you not to send an invitation to your own blood, don’t you think?”

Christian stepped forward instantly, his fists clenching so hard the joints turned white. The muscles in his neck bulged as if he were fighting every urge in his body not to punch him.

“How dare you show your face here?” Christian growled.